Page 48 of A Bloody Merry Christmas
Razz?
I liked it.
I grinned as I shoved down my pants and stepped out of them, giving me more room to move. “Not bad.” I shifted in closer to him and touched my palm over his heart. He watched me carefully, his gaze gentle. “You love me, too, huh?”
He nodded.
A sigh of happiness slipped out before I could stop myself and I cupped his cheeks and kissed him. He tasted like sweat and the pear he’d eaten earlier.
“Sam?” I stepped back and signed the same movements Dalton had taught me, causing Sam to frown. “What? After that performance, I could definitely be pregnant. It’s possible, all right?”
He snorted, mouth twitching.
“We should play like that again. Ready for round two?”
Sam laughed.
12
EZRA
I belted out “Jingle Bells” in time with the music in the background. Although, I wasn’t a singer and wouldn’t win any awards for it, I was enjoying myself. The acidic depression and hate that usually came with anything related to the holiday didn’t show its ugly face. Not while I lived with Sam and felt safe. He was my very own serial killer and I trusted him to protect me.
I danced around the living room, crossing the floor in a moonwalk that didn’t match the tune, but I was in too much of a good mood to care. Everything was finally shaping up to be positive in my life, and I wanted to celebrate my future. I missed Sam when he went to work, but it was only three days before Christmas, and he’d promised he had a week off as soon as he finished on Christmas Eve. I was so fucking excited to spend the entire time with him. We had plans that involved sledding, hiking, and spending time on Dalton’s farm where he’d teach me all kinds of skills, like milking Daisy.
After New Year’s, I was planning on seriously investigating how to get some education under my belt so I could further my career, and the idea excited me, which was new. Usually, I hatedany type of studying, but Sam promised he’d help, including deciding on which path to take because I had no idea what I wanted to be. Social work intrigued me, but I wasn’t sure if it was a good fit.
I’d asked Sam to cancel the plan of killing Gary a few days ago. I didn’t know if Sam had listened to me, but I hoped he did. I hadn’t heard any more about it, so I took that as a positive sign.
Lucy continued to help me with ASL, and correct a few “hilarious” words that Dalton had taught me. While I was learning, Sam and the family communicated with me through signing and speech. When I was confused, they explained the signs to me. I was getting a lot better at the language and I was proud of myself. I knew I had a long way to go, but it helped when I had people to talk ASL with.
Overall, everything was fucking spectacular and I was riding a high.
I wriggled my hips in time with the music, singing the chorus at the top of my lungs, and as the last notes finished, I bowed to my imaginary audience sitting on the couch. “Thank you, thank you, I’m here all day.”
I chuckled to myself and my stupidity when the sound of the doorbell echoed through the house. Straightening the cushions on the couch one last time, I nodded before I strode to the front door. I wasn’t expecting anyone, but I’d learned over the last few weeks that the neighbors loved to visit for a cup of coffee, and I liked playing host. Sam told me it was good to be friends with them, and I believed him. I also really liked the ladies, too. They knew all the gossip, and they were really, really funny. Especially Annabella and Eleanor.
I didn’t peek through the peephole like I would’ve in the beginning, and instead opened the door—and my mouth—to greet one of the two ladies. I froze when my gaze locked on Gary. Panic sliced through me, sharp and heart wrenching, andI sucked in a deep, shaky breath as I went to slam the door shut again.
He threw his body in the way, jamming himself in the threshold, and grinned. The stench of rum drifted off him, filling my nose and turning my stomach inside out. The familiar tendrils of anxiety licked at my brain, reminding me of the all the times Gary had gotten drunk and thrown me around, how he burped in my face and made me listen to stories about how he abused women. If I tried to leave, he’d force me back in the chair and threatened to slam the bottle of rum over my head. His death threats were real, I’d heard what he’d done to his former wives and experienced what he’d done tome.
“Fuck off,” I snarled as confidently as I could, which wasn’t much. He had a way of turning me back into the scared teenager who preferred the streets than being in the same room as him.
He smiled, the bow of his mouth evil as he stared down at me with beady brown eyes. His nose was crooked from a fight years ago with our garbage man, and he was missing some teeth, but he’d told me it was from his adolescent years of playing hockey. Made sense that he played a rough sport; the man loved violence.
He shoved himself through the door, and I fell back a few steps, raising my chin to meet his cold stare. A shiver of fear swept down my spine, but I forced myself to straighten.
“How did you find me?” I snapped.
He laughed, and I winced at the odor of his breath, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes. He was too close, but I kept my position. I wouldn’t back down to him. Not anymore. “Took a while, not gonna lie, boy. When your stupid whore of a mother came home from the mall and accused me of pushing you out, I decided I’d find your ungrateful ass. She told me you were there with another guy, so I went to the mall and found me a security guard who’d give me a picture from the security footage. Took acouple of tries to find someone who’d do it for some cash. Then I contacted Hockney. You remember my friend.” His chuckles dove into a darker menacing octave. “He’s good at finding people. Healwaysfinds who I need him to. I’ll give you the credit, it took a while. Your little boyfriend was difficult to find. No social media. Nothing. He’salmostuntraceable, but Hockey found him. Samael Morris. What kind of devil ass name is that?”
I ground my teeth. “Don’t fucking mention his name. You don’t get to say it.”
Gary turned his dangerous flinty stare on me and stepped forward, face inches from mine. “What are you going to do about it? Huh? You’re a fucking sissy.”
“Go to hell. I left. You didn’t have to deal with me anymore. Why the fuck are you here?” My skin prickled, a wave of involuntary fear brushing over me. My heart raced, hammering against my ribs so loudly that I thought he’d hear it.
He grabbed my face, and I tried to rear back to get out of the hold, but that only made him tighten his grip until it hurt. Tears swelled in my eyes and my jaw shook. I wouldn’t let him win. Not this time.
